


For Now

by snafumoofins



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, platonic marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafumoofins/pseuds/snafumoofins
Summary: A glimpse at Viktor’s proposition of marriage to Tulip, followed by a discussion between Tulip and Allie, and a lot of Tulip’s thoughts about the marriage and why she’s agreeing to it.





	For Now

“It’s simple, really. I want my daughter to have someone she can look up to, I would like the companionship. It’s nothing more, nothing less. You’ll have your own room, access to whatever you need, and you’ll go out with my men as you see fit, perhaps head a few operations of your own.” 

“I’m not someone to look up to. I’m the  _last_  person any kid should look up to. Daughter of a whore, can’t hold onto shit, can’t even keep my own goddamn head on straight anymore.” 

She looks so lost and ragged seated across from him, weariness still crippling her features. Tulip O’Hare is much like the feral cats that seem to litter the streets of New Orleans, mistrusting eyes shifting every which-way, as though expecting she’ll need a quick exit.

“I think the opposite, really. I’ve spent enough time with you to know that we both could do with this. It’s something solid, a family that will always be here for you.” 

There’s a shift in her expression, and for a moment, she’s somewhere else entirely within her own mind, eyes spaced off to a corner. There’s so much Viktor doesn’t know about her, but he  _does_  know something’s made her this way, given her such mournful eyes and sunken cheeks. For a moment, Viktor assumes she’s about to simply  _leave,_ but that’s when she’s suddenly nodding. 

“Fine.” 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Allie, whatcha’ up to down here?” 

The girl glanced up from her drawing, a blinding smile (full of gaps from the teeth she’s been losing like bowling pins) spreading across her face as she noted Tulip’s approach. “Was just drawing you and me, s’all.” 

Marriage was something Tulip had only imagined with Jesse Custer, if at all. They’d do it in some shitty Vegas chapel, or maybe even in goddamn Annville, just to show every asshole in town that they  _made it_ , but with Viktor? She’d only ever thought of Viktor as a mentor, the proposition had left her conflicted as shit, but the family he offered had reached to something deep inside of her, something that just goddamn  _needed_  something to be stable for once. After Dallas, after Carlos, the baby, Jesse, she’d  _lost_  herself. She was  _still_  lost, too, only now, here was goddamn Viktor, offering her a chance to  _heal_ and for once, Tulip wasn’t so keen on running away from the chance of stability. She was  _tired_. 

Standing there, looking down at Allie and the crudely drawn stick figures seated together in a purple car, she realized that this little girl  _did_  look up to her. Allie had lost a mother. Tulip had lost a child. Maybe this  _was_  goddamn fate. For  _now_. 

Tulip knew she would leave. She knew Jesse Custer would crawl back into her thoughts and she’d be  _less_  angry towards him, but for now, this would be something nice (she’d think of how bad she’d hurt everyone later on). Her and him, they were ‘till the end of the world, or at least,  _she_  had thought so, not having been the one to  _leave_. 

“You okay?” the girl’s question brought Tulip back to the present, doe-eyes wide in momentary confusion. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, just thinkin’, is all,” slowly, she seated herself adjacent to the drawing girl, baffled by how  _oblivious_  Allie remained, despite her father’s syndicate, despite the stress around her. Tulip’d come to the girl for a reason, of course. Though she’d initially agreed to Viktor’s deal, Allie was a factor that would make or break things. “So, Allie,” Tulip trailed off, glancing towards one of the intricate paintings upon the wall. It was funny, really, how difficult this was, talking to a kid. Tulip’s stitched herself up, saved her own ass from sure-death situations, but  _kids_ , they weren’t easy. Anymore, they  _scared_  her, made her think on that baby-that-never-was, but Allie’s all right. Allie’s  _cool. “Right,_ so...your daddy, he,  _uh_...he and me talked and he was thinking about...well,  _marrying_  me,” it was as blunt as the joint she goddamn  _wished_  she had right now, “but it’s  _not_  like, y’know,  _normal_  marriage, it’s more like... _friends-with-marriage_ , you’re too young to get that, shit _-I mean crap!_ ” with an exasperated, growling moan, Tulip let her shoulders sink, pursing her lips tight together to will herself the patience to make this  _not_  seem like a friggin’  _disastrous_  idea.

The girl hardly shifted, though, just resumed filling Tulip’s chevelle in with more  _Maximum Purple_ crayola. Allie leaned down to admire her handiwork before glancing to Tulip, soft eyes intent, “Why?” 

Kids always asked that,  _always_ , but for once, it wasn’t for some pointless explanation. This was some  _real shit_. “Well,” Tulip swallowed, taking a steadying breath, “When I came here, you remember how I was kinda messed up? All bruised up, pale as a ghost? Big ‘ole circles under my eyes?” 

Allie paused for a moment, as if remembering how Tulip had appeared in those days, before nodding, “They’re still there but they’re almost better, maybe you should see a doctor?” 

The naive, goddamn  _sweet_  suggestion provoked a soft laugh from Tulip, the woman shaking her head in declination, “Naw, I’m fine now, I just mean...back then, I was  _really_ sad. Your daddy helped me a lot, but I’m  _still_...sad. He and me don’t like... _love_  each other and stuff like normal people getting married do, but it’s just a nice way to, y’know...” but she  _doesn’t_ know. There’s no explanation for it besides  _belonging_. In the past, Tulip O’Hare’s never wanted to belong to anyone, she laughed in the face of marital constraint, but this, despite her prior beliefs, is  _for her_ , . She  _needs_  this to get on her feet again. 

“So you’ll be like my mom?” 

The question takes her aback, Tulip’s eyes widening a bit in worriment that it’s a  _bad_  thing. “Well, I don’t...I’m never gonna be your mom, but I’ll... _sorta_ be like that,  _yeah.”_

Anxiously, Tulip watches as Allie pushes her drawing aside, seemingly chewing it over in her head, “You ever raise a kid before?” she questions, with the mature expression that a judge would friggin’ wear while questioning a witness. 

The question hits her though, as anything to do with her and children, mothering, or babies do. Tulip staves off the chilled nausea settling in her throat to offer a weak shrug, wetting her lips, “I... _almost._ ” 

“Almost?” 

Tulip glanced over to the girl, weary eyes looking  _even_  wearier as she did, “My baby... _died_  before I could meet it.” 

Allie blinked a few times, glancing down silently before slowly pushing her drawing towards Tulip. “You can marry my dad. You aren’t gonna be my mom, but you can show me how to be cool like you and I can be the flower girl in your wedding, okay?” 

Slowly, completely baffled, Tulip pressed her pinkie to the corner of Allie’s drawing, slowly tugging it closer into her view. For once, a kind of  _peace_ had settled in her chest, like she was doing the  _right_  thing. Jesse Custer wouldn’t believe his goddamn eyes, convinced that Tulip O’Hare was born to live, die, and stay on the run, but here she was, touched by a stick-figure drawing of her and the daughter of the friend she was goddamn marrying. 

“Good deal,” is all she managed, giving a soft huff of relief as she smiled, “I ever show you how to make a bazooka outta cans?” 

Immediately, like a jack-in-the-box, Allie’s standing on her chair, braids bouncing as she grins like a little freakin’ beam of sunshine, “ _No,_ but you gotta now!  _Please,_ Tulip?” in an instant, she was on the ground at Tulip’s side, tugging on her hand, “ _Pretty please_?!” 

Tulip gave a hardy laugh, standing, “Yeah, yeah, but when your daddy gets mad it ain’t my fault,” she glanced over her shoulder, towards the stairs, caught Viktor standing upon the landing with a faint smile. They shared a nod before Tulip was drug off towards the kitchen. For once, she didn’t feel so empty, didn’t feel like everything around her was a fragile icicle, ready to fall and leave at any second. 

Yeah, this was gonna be all right, for now. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> After the episode "Viktor" and Ruth's interview about Viktor, I was inspired to write this up. I know it's probably inaccurate, but I just was so interested by the concept of Viktor and Tulip having a platonic marriage, borne from grief.


End file.
